


Patience

by Trytofocus



Series: Gallery AU [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bar Gag, Captivity, Gags, Gallery au, Handcuffs, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Nipple Piercing, No Sex, Non Consensual Bondage, Spreader Bars, Strappado, Whump, cock gag, dark!shiro, non consensual piercing, non sexual bondage, posessiveness, shiro is awful as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28700154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trytofocus/pseuds/Trytofocus
Summary: Keith is taken off the schedule, and Shiro isn't happy about it.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Gallery AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1105866
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	Patience

The next showing is postponed. And so is the next one. And the next five after that. Shiro still comes around, every week, like clockwork. After the first two times of Keith’s exhibit being canceled he's stopped coming by to check if it's still there. Instead he makes it his mission to find Sendak each and every time in person to let his frustrations be known. Has something happened to Keith? Has he been ill? Was he injured under the staff’s atrocious care? In an interactive exhibit? 

And every time Sendak is infuriatingly tight lipped. He assures Shiro not for the first time that Keith is perfectly fine, that he is being given a reward of sorts, a rest. Every exhibit needs a vacation after some time. Tending to their health, their energy, endurance, readjusting their diet, someone as popular and as Keith and as feisty is sure to run out of steam soon, and it would be a true injustice to drive him to despair, the hollowness that some assets carry in their eyes Shiro has seen before, the ones who’ve given up. The ones who are numb to it all. 

Shiro agrees this wouldn’t do and that of course, the Gallery has to do everything in their power to preserve their assets’ bodies as well as their spirit. But it has been two months, not even a picture, a video. Sendak laughs and suggests they make a special little video just for _him._

“Proof of life, if you will,” he says through a toothy smile that only extends to one side of his mouth. Shiro feels desperate. But he transfers a donation through his secure patronage account anyway. It was never in question if he wants to see Keith. He’s waited long enough. 

The video is forwarded to him a few hours later, at the agreed upon time and not a second later, and Shiro settles in his private theatre to watch. It isn't the first time he watches Keith like that. Its expensive but sometimes he indulges in buying extra camera footage from exhibits he hasn't had the pleasure of attending. Few and far between as they were, Shiro wouldn't miss them, and gladly adds them to his growing precious collection. This is different. 

It’s not security camera footage, it is a direct, frontal shot. A quality camera, with audio. Keith is sitting on a simple wooden chair, his hands are cuffed to the legs at his sides, no further restraints bind him in place. He’s staring at his lap, sometimes cranes his neck to look at his cuffed wrists. He sometimes moves them about, testing their limits, or just fidgeting. That’s Keith, always so full of energy, he could never just sit still. He looks well. Alert, spirited. But something was ever so slightly off. 

It’s not like Shiro is _used_ to seeing him naked, some exhibits he is wearing pants, or lingerie, or a body suit. But he is wearing a normal T shirt in the video. To Shiro, that was odd. He assumed they’d have him naked for this, he usually enjoys looking at his abdomen and torso, the lovely movements rippling through his wiry body when he pants, or shifts, or cries. It was big on him too, like he’s wearing a larger partner’s clothes after a night over. The passing thought momentarily filled Shiro’s vision with red. 

Keith suddenly shifts, tracking someone’s movements behind the camera with his eyes, expression weary. Shiro can barely see them from under his bangs which are trimmed but never quite gone. It’s a look that’s been adopted for him early on, he came looking so wild to the Gallery, and it was part of the charm. They keep his hair a comfortable length, enough to grab, enough to be arranged artfully around his face, enough to tie back into his bondage. 

His eyes were charming too though. Big and expressive and purple. Such an unusual color, Shiro marveled that it wasn’t contact lenses, as Sendak assured him. 

Shiro watches Keith track the other person to his side, still out of the shot. But then a gloved hand comes in and grabs his chin. It forces him to look forward and lifts up his head, a disembodied voice saying, “Let him see you now,” 

Shiro allows himself the tiniest gasp. He’s alone, in his own home, and this feels… sacred. It’s almost like Keith is _there_ with him. His hands twitch to go into his pants but he doesn’t dare take his eyes off Keith. He’s become good at this, he wouldn’t be distracted by his own desires. Afterwards, he may rewatch this video and do whatever he liked, but Keith deserved this respect at least. Of the first viewing.

He imagines it’s live. He tells Keith he looks lovely. 

“Now say something for him.” 

Keith bares his teeth, cheeks pressing into the fingers of the gloved hand holding his face. It’s rude, feral. Classic Keith. Shiro gets the distinct feeling he wasn’t told who he’s shooting for. But he knows. Shiro can see it in his eyes. In the blush that spreads in his face. His hands clench into fists in their restraints and Shiro leans forward, watching enraptured as Keith appears to think about it. His mouth works but his lips are closed, then he opens them and takes a fast breath. 

The slap to Keith’s face is jarring, both Keith and Shiro jump as his face jerks to the side and his eyes wrench shut, the spit in his mouth he was about to direct at the camera dislodges safely somewhere else in the room. He stays like that for a second, breathing hard with his mouth open then the hand leaves the shot as Keith uses his shoulder to wipe off his face, like a messy child making trouble for their parent at dinner. But then he straightens up, on his own accord, and looks at the camera. 

“Missed me, you bastard?” He says, his voice dripping poison, “Am I right? Is that you? Or is this getting sent to every one of you perverts huh?” He’s getting emotional. His hands are shaking in their cuffs, rattling the metal. The shadow of the other person moves around, and Keith’s eyes track it for a second before he looks back at the lens. Shiro feels like he’s looking through him. He says to him,

“It’s me. I missed—” 

“That’s right,” Keith interjects, throwing Shiro out of this being live fantasy, “Go fuck yourself. Hey! Hey, get away from— MHhh!” Someone comes over and slips a gag into his mouth as he rants angrily. Shiro doesn’t see their face in the shot where it disappears at the top but they move out of the way and he can see the anger and surprise in Keith’s eyes as his head is being jerked around to secure the clasps. Shiro doesn’t catch what goes in his mouth but the noises Keith makes are now so muffled barely any air comes out that way. It’s filling his mouth entirely, he can tell by the way his jaw now sits closer to his neck, creasing his skin. He shakes away from the handler’s touch once they are done and stares daggers in their direction somewhere up and to the side where they settled behind the camera again.

“Now that’s enough talking,” And Shiro can’t believe he didn’t realize it was Sendak from the very start. He can even hear the crooked smile in it. “As you can see, you have nothing to worry about. Our asset is quite fine and lively.” Keith’s nostrils flare and eyebrows knit as he’s being talked about like he’s not there. While he can’t speak for himself. Keith _looks_ alright, but Shiro knows he wouldn’t put it like that. Not in his situation. But for their purposes, it does satisfy. 

“He is currently being prepared for his comeback, do make sure to watch the announcements on the patronage board in the near future. Have a lovely night.” 

There’s a door behind Keith Shiro hadn’t noticed before. And he sees a shadow pass over Keith’s side as Sendak walks around and out of focus behind him. The door opens and closes quietly, his suit only barely distinguishable in the blurriness of the lens. 

Keith turns around to watch him, groaning a question into his gag, his eyes wild, his chest rising and falling in panic. 

Shiro knows what he wants to know. And between the two of them he is the one able to find out. Keith flinches when the door closes, and lets out more desperate wails. Shiro produces the remote from a pocket in his cushioned seat and presses pause on a lovely terrified face he is making and checks the duration left for the video. 

Three hours. 

He settles in, and presses play. Keith turns to both sides in his seat trying to see over his shoulder as far as the cuffs would let him, moaning and screaming into his gag, but inevitably, his gaze shifts forward, towards the camera. 

He sighs shakily, and Shiro smiles. Though he is still left wondering why they would put him in that loose, ugly shirt. 

\---

It’s another two weeks before Shiro finds out why. By then he’s received 2 more videos of Keith during what they call, his ‘resting time’. Time he would otherwise spend sitting around in his cell, or whatever accommodation they have for him when he isn’t being exhibited or otherwise bothered. So it’s not skin off their routine for him while he’s on his ‘vacation’. He’s always in that shirt, always tied up rather comfortably, always with Sendak making him say something before gagging him and spending the rest of the time… relaxing. He looks bored, on edge, but bored after a while. And sometimes Shiro thinks he notices his eyes glaze over. Being filmed must not be as stimulating as being exhibited, when there are spectators he can actually see or be forced to interact with. It suits Shiro fine. He knows this is just a fleeting in-between state created to appease him and his generous donations to the Gallery while their prized asset is being restricted to him. 

He appreciates it though. He wishes it was live, but Sendak won’t agree to it, saying he wants to surprise him when Keith is finally ready to be exhibited once more. 

\---

Shiro’s hands are in his slacks pockets as he walks down the familiar halls of The Gallery, he knows them by heart now, even when they periodically renovate to refresh the space and exhibits. And although Keith isn’t always exhibited in the same show room, Shiro has an idea where he would be. It’s one of the bigger ones, hard to keep clean and redecorate often but they manage it, somehow. Perhaps that’s the reason why opening hours are so few each day. He supposes keeping up this space, as well as the assets looking this nice and so well away from the public eye must require a lot of work. 

His legs carry him of their own accord, and he isn’t disappointed in his guess. It’s been _so long_ since he’s been allowed to see Keith, and there he was, finally, before him. 

As always, he’s made sure he is the first one there to watch the prep, though some other patrons trail in after him. It feels like a rival lion stepping on his turf, but he must play nice. He comes as close to the glass as he can, only half heartedly making sure not to obscure Keith for the rest of the patrons in the room with him. The artist, the woman who always wears red, he notices, is already unpacking her materials by the door, no doubt eager to resume drawing her muse. Shiro’s taken glances at her work. It was adequate. He found himself many times with half a mind to commission her for a piece of Keith he could take home with him. 

He makes a mental note to request an introduction from Sendak. 

Keith looks lovelier than ever. He is brought out with his hands already cuffed behind his back with red leather and a short chain between them. He is wearing some sort of lingerie set that covers his chest and crotch well, only transparent outside of the interesting parts, with feathery lace and delicate straps that wrap around his toned body, accenting the healthy blush of his skin. It seems like he’s been made to moisturize, and work out. And Shiro sure as hell appreciated the difference. He was lovely before but now… He couldn’t take his eyes off of him. 

They set him down kneeling on a round platform, raised slightly above the floor. It seemed to be steady but Shiro noticed it was only touching the marble tile somewhere in its middle. He didn’t get a chance to be too curious about it before they started working on him. Shiro noticed Keith staring firmly down and refusing to look at him. He imagines what must be going through his head, finally back after so long being away from it all, Shiro wonders what his routine was like while he was gone. Was he treated well? Did he get a chance to truly relax? Did he, perhaps, enjoy it even? Was that too much to hope for? 

Shiro wanders, and he’s not sure what emotion to put behind it, if Keith might be finally _settling in_. 

He watches as they secure his knees and ankles in spreader bars, the lingerie teasingly on display, then each knee and ankle are in turn secured with ropes to hidden hooks under the platform, immobilizing him in a lewd, spread kneed position. His hands are left alone for now while a staff member holds his shoulders back, makes him sit up straight so another one could come from the front and lift his chin in a gloved finger. It reminds Shiro of Sendak doing the same thing in the video, and this time he could see the satisfied face on the staff member as they appraise Keith’s beautiful face, with a little too much adoration to Shiro’s taste before bringing a bar gag up to his lips, pursed in anger. 

Shiro understood that Keith at this moment has too much to focus on, but he would have still appreciated a look, a sideways glance, an acknowledgement of his presence. But Keith seems to be hell bent on ignoring him. Or it might be that something else, more troublesome is on his mind that Shiro was unaware of? What could it possibly be. 

He’s hardly ever choked at a bar gag before, but he thrashes then, in the other staff member’s hold, as the one with the contraption puts it up to his face holding the straps with both hands, checking the fit. Something dangles from the rings on the sides of the bar but Shiro can’t quite see what. It makes a faint metallic sound and Keith is, strangely, almost near hysterics at the sight of it and struggles through the whole process. He does everything he can to avoid the thing being stuck in his mouth, pursing his lips tight, clenching his jaw, shaking his head like a rabid dog trying to dislodge them, his hands are trapped behind him but he still paws at the handler at his back looking to cause damage. 

They manage it, as they always do, eventually. One handler holds his nose while the other pries his jaw open the moment he dares to take the tiniest breath, and then it’s in. He shakes and shakes as they work together to secure it on him but it’s no use as the buckle cinches tightly behind his head. When one of them steps away Shiro can finally see, it’s two metal chains, delicate looking things, that dangle from the rings now at Keith’s cheeks. At the short end of each is a small, innocent looking clasp. 

His head is left alone now to adjust to the new restraint, and he knows he _knows_ that isn't coming off but he shakes his head around anyway. That’s the Keith he remembers. And he was worried he was settling in huh. No, the spark is still there. He hasn’t given up yet. 

One of the staff goes to the back of the glass room and presses a button near the door, which lowers a large, sturdy ring from a chain on the ceiling down down to somewhere around Keith’s shoulder’s height. He watches it, sitting so straight on his knees and his back arches so beautifully, it steals Shiro’s breath away for a moment. He hopes the artist captures this moment, however fleeting, so he may peak at it later and perhaps inquire of her prices. 

Once the chain is done descending Keith is pushed forward with a groan into the bar between his teeth and his cuffed wrists are wrenched up and attached to that ring. It’s an uncomfortable, kneeling strappado, and the rigger produces a short rope to tie Keith’s elbows together as far as they would go, and Keith was pretty flexible, but Shiro noticed his arms joining in almost effortlessly now behind him, kept straight and pulled upward by the new restraint.

Effortlessly, no doubt, only in show. As Keith wastes no time opening his mouth as wide around the bar to breathe. It must be difficult in that position and he already struggles to keep his neck long and forward as the staff who pushed the button earlier pushes another one that cranked the chain back up a few notches, putting the stress on Keith’s shoulders more than before. 

The same handler who gagged Keith earlier steps away from his arms and goes back to the front, Keith is watching them intently, breathing hard. To Shiro’s utter dismay, their hands go to the shoulder straps of Keith’s lacy bra. They gently, move them away to slack by his half raised biceps. The hands move down Keith’s chest, into what little cleavage the bra is able to gather his firm little pecks into and slip under. It’s erotic, and as much as Shiro cannot look away he is seething at how this display is being handled. 

His mind goes completely blank as the hands under the bra cups move them down and arrange the lace under the curve of his muscle. His nipples are shining with something… something metal. His nipples are _pierced._

The handler steps away for a moment, to let the patrons in the room take it in. It is then that the platform Keith is sitting on begins to spin ever so slightly, the lighting in the space moves around to fall artfully on all the sparkles in his outfit and makes the intricately designed rings around his nipples shine bright once he turns fully towards the room. Shiro holds his breath as he looks at him, stunned. He can’t believe they’ve done this to him without saying anything, not a word, for months as he was no doubt healing from the piercings. He looks, exquisite like this, and while Shiro’s eyes roam his body he notices his ears are also pierced, with the same type of rings, a perfect set. 

After they’ve had some time to collect their jaws off the floor the staff members both stepped to Keith’s sides, each holding one of the delicate chains connected to his cheeks between them, raising Keith’s head by them like horse reins so everyone could see the nipples more clearly before they finally, lower them down, with objections from Keith all the way down to be clasped at the nipple rings each in turn. Both little chinks accompanied by a pained gasps from a horrified Keith.

Shiro understands now why he’s put up such a fuss when he’s seen what was on the gag the first time it went in. Damn it must have been the reason they kept his mouth well plugged up during the videos they made for him, so he wouldn’t blab about this prematurely to the patrons. Shiro still of course, privately hoped he was the only one who got to see that precious behind the scenes footage, but he wasn’t so sure, knowing Sendak and The Gallery would exploit every opportunity to profit off of their way of life. 

Keith looks, defeated. It is clear the piercings are painful and taunt on the short chains, he is reluctant to lower his head all the way down as the position makes it hard to breath this way but his nipples must be so, so sensitive. 

Shiro’s watches, and unknowingly, his fingers move in his pockets, thumb and forefinger rubbing against each other, imagining it’s Keith’s nipples he’s holding between them. He imagines the gasps and quiet whines Keith makes from the stress of holding the position are vocalized only for him as the staff leave the glass room and Keith’s platform spins slowly around and around for hours.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me on twitter @ Try_tofocus and tumblr @trytofocus


End file.
